The Pact with the Devil
by Dreamweaver123
Summary: Katniss is a fledgling supernatural warrior sent on a mission to entrap the "Devil" into the human body it has harbored. She thought she was mentally and physically prepared for everything, but there was something quite unnatural about the human body. It housed a human soul as well!


A Pact with the Devil

Epilogue

-Peeta-

It was foolish to think that making a pact with the devil would work. It was not that the devil, or Devill as he would euphemistically label the beast, did not honor the agreement. No, far from it. Devill followed through quite literally to the very last word.

What was a simple pact between Peeta and Devill simply backfired. It was a fair, clean exchange, really. As long as Devill did not claim his wife's soul and send her to the underworld, he, Peeta Mellark, would willingly exchange his soul for hers.

The year was 1775. Peeta Mellark had married Madge Undersee, and they were expecting their first child. They were affluent, mostly because Madge's family owned a thriving tea business. Peeta was quite surprised when Madge sought him out for more than just menial labor.

Peeta was a very humble baker, working his way up, saving up money to one day own his own bakery. Until then, he went door to door delivering his treats. On days that he had no requests for baked goods, he offered to do any work available. And that was how he met Madge Undersee, while he was cleaning the family room. Truth be told, he did not know what sort of attributes she saw in him, but she was unforgiving in her pursuit. 'No' was never an acceptable answer. Even so, Peeta felt flattered by the attention she had given him. Her pursuits were not ruthless, just very persistent. And Peeta admired her for that. It was a trait that he cherished. So, amist the lavish attention and near-pathologic interest, he accepted her marriage offer.

Madge had committed numerous crimes, but in the end, she was a good wife to Peeta. Unfortunately, Madge had angered so many people. Whatever she had done to them, their wrath was lethal. She was poisoned. Only, the poison did not affect one life, but two. Their unborn child died alongside its mother.

Her crimes were crimes of passion, really. She was utterly jealous of the interest that other women and men gave to Peeta. She despised the ogling and the wandering hands, so she did what she felt she needed to do in order to claim possession of the man she loved. But her acts were underhanded, violent, and unforgiving, earning her the extreme hatred and envy of everyone that knew the Mellarks.

Peeta was stricken with grief when he witnessed her death, more so that he was to blame for her downfall. Unfortunately, the horror did not end with her death. The townspeople celebrated her demise. He underwent a self-imposed exile, unable to bear witness to the fact that people he knew thought so little of a human life. And that was when the delusions started.

In the silence of the night, he began to hear voices. The pitch and tone were odd, and words were spoken in a language he did not understand. He thought he was going insane. Objects would start moving at will. He felt eyes follow his every movement. A chilly finger would brush against his skin. Though he had not invited anyone to his home, he felt that he was not alone.

It was upon the third week after Madge's death that his suspicions were confirmed. It started off as a beam of darkness in the middle of the night and escalated to a shadow outlined by light. And on the fourth night of what Peeta initially thought was visual hallucinations from his grief, the being fully appeared. It was chilling, dusky, and towering. It introduced itself as the Devil.

Its stench was overwhelming putrid, its eyes dark and bottomless, its movements stealthy but swift and deliberate. Its image burned into his human eyes. At first, Peeta did not understand. What could the Devil possibly want with him?

It did not help that the being was not quite direct with him. It circled him like he was prey, its eyes scanning him, relentlessly peeling through his innermost thoughts and feelings. His soul felt naked and bare in its presence. Three nights into this strange behavior, he was finally enlightened. The Devil wanted to make a bargain:Peeta's soul in exchange for Madge's. He did not understand. Why would his soul be more desired over Madge's? Yet, Peeta did not dwell on this question. It appeared that he would have time to think upon it later. The thought of Madge's soul being kept in the depths of hell and tortured did not sit well with him. So, without hesitation, he agreed to the exchange.

The Devil brushed his fingers against Peeta's shoulder and an inscription in a dark, strangely exotic black color appeared on his shoulder, pressing into and then under his skin, embedding into his soul. Tendrils of hatred, violence, anger, jealousy, greed and all things he would call evil brushed against his soul, almost freezing him with shock at the vividness of the sensations. He willed himself to remain calm, but the truth was he was scared sh-less. And as fast as the feelings came, they dissipated. Peeta opened his eyes, which he had not realized he had sealed tight.

The Devil seemed perplexed, as if something was wrong with the pact. Something had gone terribly awry that the devil must not have anticipated. It also appeared that the Devil was burned by his attempt, because it appeared slightly less menacing now. It circled Peeta, calculating, repressing its obvious fury. Time seemed to halt, but in all honestly, seven Earth days had passed when it stopped its pacing and changed its tactics. It failed to extract Peeta's soul. That part was obvious. So instead of trying to separate his soul from his body, it chained Peeta's soul to the body, locking the essence that was Peeta into the mind, forcing the body into obedience not to Peeta, but to the devil, claiming the body for its own purposes.

Oh, how wrong had Peeta been. The devil did not want his soul. It wasn't a creature of depth. It longed for the physicality his body could offer. It wanted the shell that he presented to the world, and nothing more than that. It wanted to experience the sensations that the living offered, and Peeta's body seemed to be a perfect vessel- charming, youthful, and beautiful. If Peeta had been greedy enough in life, he would get his way with anything, especially sex.

And that was what the devil craved. So, it shamelessly 'borrowed' his body. It was a strange feeling, to own something that did not entirely belong to him. He had control of it during the day, but when night came, when Devill felt most powerful and at ease, the body belonged to him. During those hours, any words spoken, any gestures made, were those of Devill and not his own. Thanfully, he was amnestic to those hours when the other claimed his body. The only evidence of what transpired during those nights would be the state he was in the morning, which most of the time was nude, sore, and tangled amongst naked bodies of women, and sometimes men.

It was quite uncomfortable those first few years. When he woke up awkwardly from whatever orgy the devil had revelled in, he would attempt to disentangle himself from the sea of bodies to make his evasive escape. He was not trained in stealth, and so, he was often met with incredulity and aggression.

It went on, day after day, year after year, decade after decade. He was trapped in the body he was born to, frozen in time, doomed to repeat the same physical activities Devil enthusiastically parttook in. Peeta got stealthier about sneaking away in the morning, colder at brushing off the unfamiliar faces and bodies, more aggressive at fending off the beasts that always craved more.

It was strange, but Devill did not tire of these orgies. If anything, he became wilder with time, the locations, people, and equipment more exotic. Peeta found it harder to seek solace in any human relationship, and so, during the days, when he had control over his limbs and mind, he distanced himself from any human contact. He sought refuge in drawing, baking, painting, writing, reading . . . anything and everything that would distract him. He became a hermit by day, Devil medium by night.

Two hundred thirty four years had passed. Yet Devill did not tire of his body. Peeta, on the other hand, felt tired and lonely. He had tried to end his life quite a few times, only to realize that he could not die. Devill had done something to his body, keeping it youthful and invincible. And most importantly, Devill kept it toned from whatever nighttime physical exertion he required to keep himself happy.

So Peeta roamed the States coast to coast, trying to find refuge but eventually leaving the lascivious leeches behind when he could not stand their prodding anymore. Two hundred thirty four years was enough time for people to forget that he had existed in the exact same state, to hide the fact that he did not age. So he returned to Florida to a little place south of St. Augustine, for the third time.

He settled in a small and desolate shack at the end of the neighborhood where all other houses had been abandoned, taking advantage of the mortgage bubble burst. And there he stayed, hidden from all the people, only to come out at night for the festivities. None of the women Devill slept with knew where he lived. For that, Peeta was grateful that Devill decided to sleep out as opposed to bringing people back into his dilapidated shack of a house. Life was predictable. At least, he had the waters to keep him calm. He loved hearing the waves crashing into the beach. It grounded him and gave him peace of mind.

Everything seemed reasonably low key . . . until one day, he saw her. The girl had the most unique gray eyes. She shouldn't have been there on the beach. No one should have been there. It rained so hard with winds that blinded the human eye. He chanced to come out in the open beach, hoping to wash away all the troubles in his mind. But there she was, along with a couple of guys, all very lightfooted and confident. They were playing in the rain, arms spread out, beckoning the rain onto their faces. The girl was flanked by two young and beautiful men. They moved with grace and elegance. And when they saw him, their eyes did not turn away. They stared at him, as if intrigued. He took that as his cue to return to his shack, but amazingly, they were fast. Within seconds, they stood before him, startling Peeta with their agility.

"Hey," the girl spoke, her voice rich and sultry. "Katniss here. Fancy meeting you."

Peeta remained speechless. He could not afford to involve anyone else into his agonizing life. So he ignored her and walked away, hoping she would get the hint. But one of her boy friends rushed in front of him. "And Finnick, you know, guy with the good teeth." And to make his point, he smiled, showing his pearly whites. _No, he didn't know._

Peeta continued walking. Surely, they would not be so brazen as to continue when he obviously was not interested. But the second male too jumped in front of him. "And Gale."

Peeta attemped to sidestep the one called Gale, but this male was stubborn and held his arm out, preventing any forward motion from Peeta. "Listen," Peeta spoke with annoyance. "I am not in the mood to dilly dally," Peeta spoke, his voice intended to be harsh and dismissive, but somehow never sounded hard enough.

"Funny," Finnick spoke. "You did not seem this unfriendly the other night."

_Great. _Peeta thought. _Crazy stalkers. _"Listen, I was not myself. Sorry for giving you any ideas." He stepped forward, but another hand held his arm. It was Katniss, and he was surprised by how firm her hold was.

"You seem so tense, Peeta. Maybe a little alcohol will loosen you up a bit." Katniss had a beautiful voice, but there was something misplaced about it. Peeta felt compelled to look into her eyes, and when he did, he instantly regretted it. Her eyes were hypnotic, commanding him to agree. He wanted to please her, for some strange reason.

He was about to surrender to her request, but a cry from Finnick broke whatever spell she had placed on him. Peeta looked to Finnick, who was the unfortunately the recipient of some well-timed bird poop. He took the opportunity to run as fast as he could back to his shack. True it did not provide real protection, but it gave him privacy. For the first time in over two hundred years, he felt a strange power hovering over his head. He tasted mortality!

kpkpkpkpkp

-Katniss-

She watched the boy named Peeta run towards his pitiful domicile. It was such a stark difference from the other night when Finnick, Gale and herself broached him, entrancing him with their beauty. Gone was the sex-crazed, foul-mouthed, shallow being, completely replaced by a soul that appeared to have control, restraint, and something of dignity. There was very little that tipped Katniss off her balance, but this new tidbit of information did just that.

She realized now that the mission asked of her is much harder than she was led to believe. _Diplomatic bastards, _she thought to the original stated request. It was put to her quite simply. She was to befriend the body that housed the Devil, lull the Devil into a sense of security with the physical body so that it would spend more and more time in this mortal shell, and shackle its essence to the mortal body. The body, which appears to have been a favorite prize of the devil for the past two centuries, would be its prison for all of eternity, keeping it powerless and vulnerable.

That was the job that was delegated to her, the reward for her success something very dear to her heart. So she acquiesced. She had asked and received Gale and Finnick. As she was still young in the supernatural world, she realized there was a high chance that she would be unable to overpower the Devil. So here they were, on the beautiful St. Augustine beach in Florida. It was not hard to identify which body the Devil controlled. Despite owning a mortal body, _a beautiful one at that, _its taste, tact and language remained true to its despiccable self. _Such a shame to the the male that he is defiled so carelessly. _

The Devil roamed the earth at night, where it was in its element, wreaking havoc and mayhem to all it passed. So they searched for him in the night. It did not take long to identify him. And once they found him, Katniss was initially disappointed. Despite its mortal shell, the Devil was amazingly strong. She quickly realized that she did not have enough powers to chain it to the mortal body.

Worse, while the devil frequented the body, it refused to completely settle into it. There was no way she could perform the binding ritual to chain it to the body when it was so restless inside of it. The energy required was way beyond what she and her friends could conjure at their level. What they needed was for the devil to inhabit the body night and day, creating a greater bond to it. She was sure that she, Gale and Finnick would then have enough in them to complete their task.

So there. How does one get the Devil to frequent the body more? How does she encourage it to linger? It did not take too long for her to recognize its weakness-lust. It oozed out of every word, every action, every pore in its claimed body. Why else would the leader of the Underworld choose such an attractive shell of a human to invade and command if not to take advantage of its beauty.

Katniss could not deny that the Devil had a good eye for beauty. The blond male was a rare jewel, no doubt opening up quite a few sexual opportunities with just one glance. Everything about the body, from the deep earth-colored eyes to the golden hued hair to the trim and tone body, cried out seduction. This mortal was the perfect sexual trap for any living human being.

"Peeta," the Devil had introduced itself the other night, the voice alluring despite the filthy words that spilled out of his mouth. It was quite obvious that Katniss had attracted the Devil's attention. _Peeta _followed her like a lapdog, tending to her every need, hands roaming wildly and without any invitation. Its eyes were feral and hungry, its gaze predatory and arrogant. But Katniss was not an amateur.

She smiled back seductively, adding just the right amount of confidence and mystery. She teased Peeta with promises of sex and allure while not really yielding to his demands. She lured him into one of the nearby apartments, making him pant and moan in wanton desire, but refused to give him any physical satisfaction. She had unclothed him to the point that left nothing to the imagination, his body arched and tense from arousal. Instead of offering relief, she laughed, blew him a kiss, gave him a teasing stroke and ran out the door claiming she had a real party to go to. And he loved every moment of it.

Every time she came back, his needs were greater, his desire more pronounced, his hardness more obvious. He more easily yielded, usually undressing himself quite eagerly, only to remain hard and unattended to. They had played this game for a whole week when she realized something. She didn't need to lure the devil into its mortal body during the nighttime. He was habitually inhabiting the mortal body during those hours. What she needed to do was lure the devil to stay in the body when the sun came out! It was a revelation that relieved a lot of her frustrations with the situation.

So there she stood, gazing at the lovely but receding backside of the mortal named Peeta, dazed by the short interaction. The Devil kept the mortal's soul in the body! Why? Unlike the past week, the male that now stood before her wreaked of innocence and purity. Gone was the arrogant, whorish, overly confident bastard she had witnessed. She stood, mouth wide in awe.

"This is a little more intricate than I was led to believe," she spoke when she finally recovered her wits.

Gale and Finnick exchanged a funny look, and she would not have described those faces as benign. They were part of an elite group of supernatural warriors after all.

_Peeta. _The name danced off her tongue. She had spoken it countless times before, but she did not think of him other than the body that harbored the Devil. This being that was quickly trying to escape her presence wreaked of humanity. She could taste his loneliness and feel his repressed longing for love. Perhaps, she can use this to her advantage.

There was one problem, though. In the past week, every single thing that _Peeta _did disgusted her to no end. She had no qualms about destroying him or sentencing him to eternity in darkness and despair. Just now, he was a totally different creature. Even if few words spewed from his mouth, there was a subtle difference in his muscles, whether it was his facial expression or his gait. Gone was the aggression, replaced by a gentleness she had not expected. True, his facade moments ago was one of indifference, but it seemed that the attitude was one honed through nearly three hundred years of torture and sadness. She wondered if the Devil had not inhabited the body, what would the real Peeta be like? For the first time since meeting him, Katniss was curious as to what would happen to the human Peeta should she chain the Devil's essence to his body?


End file.
